


tale as old as time

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, M/M, New York Yankees, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:45:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Alex is in Miami when he gets Andy’s message.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	tale as old as time

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted in a fairytale comment fic meme in my journal a while ago. [**inplayruns**](http://inplayruns.livejournal.com/) requested "Alex/Andy, Miami, Beauty and the Beast." 
> 
> Unrelated(ish) title from "Beauty and the Beast," from the Disney movie.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Alex is in Miami when he gets Andy’s message.   
  
_“Come to New York. I need to see you.”_  
  
It’s the tone to Andy’s voice that gets to him. He doesn’t sound like himself; he sounds like he’s half a world away. It’s the dead of winter. He wonders what Andy could possibly want with him.  
  
Alex hastily packs a carry-on bag and buys a one-way ticket to New York.  
  
-  
  
Alex has the taxi drop him off in front of the gate and Andy buzzes him in.  
  
The driveway leading to Andy’s place is a long, twisted dirt path. Alex turns and looks over his shoulder; the taxi’s long gone.  
  
He starts walking.  
  
-  
  
“I’m retiring,” Andy tells him, once they’ve settled in and Alex has a beer in his hand.  
  
Alex feels like he’s had his ice-cold beer dumped over his head. “What? What are you talking about?”  
  
“We decided it was time,” he says.  
  
“You’ve still got a lot left in the tank,” Alex insists, putting his beer down. “How do you know you won’t feel differently in a couple months?”  
  
“I just do,” Andy says. “I wanted to tell you in person. Didn’t want you finding out through the news.”  
  
“Thanks, I guess,” Alex says, unable to look at Andy any longer. He focuses on his bottle instead.  
  
Weirdly, he feels betrayed.  
  
“What’s on your mind?” Andy inches closer, puts a hand down flat on the countertop.  
  
Alex raises his beer and sips. He shrugs. “Nothing. Nothing, just that—you’ve earned it.”  
  
“Not sure I believe you,” Andy says.  
  
“Don’t have to believe me.” Alex finishes off the last of his beer in one big gulp and puts the bottle down, next to Andy’s hand.  
“It was time,” Andy says, his tone low, forceful. “Got to the point I can’t see myself doing this anymore. I don’t have anything left in me to give to the game.”  
  
“That’s a lie.” Alex raises his eyes and locks gazes with Andy, practically dares him to look away.  
  
“You think this’s about getting away from you—from this?” Andy asks.  
  
Alex shakes his head, purses his lips. “I don’t know what this is about.”  
  
Andy wraps one of his big warm hands around Alex’s wrist but doesn’t move to pull him closer or push him away. “It’s about you, but not how you think.”  
  
“What is it then?” Alex tugs his wrist out of Andy’s grip.  
  
“I don’t like what this makes me,” Andy says, gesturing between them.  
  
Alex crosses his arms over his chest and squares his jaw. “Didn’t bother you before.”  
  
“Things change, Alex. People change.” Andy rocks back on his heels and leans against the counter. “I gotta start putting my family first.”  
  
“Ahead of baseball and ahead of me,” Alex says. He doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding so accusatory, but it is what it is.  
  
“I guess,” Andy allows.  
  
“You’re a coward,” Alex says. “You’re using retirement as an escape. Why? Because you’re not brave enough to just break it off?”  
  
“I need to get away from everything that’s poisoning me. And that’d be baseball and you,” Andy says, his face a careful, expressionless mask. His eyes are dark and empty, devoid of the fire Alex had grown accustomed to.  
  
Alex shakes his head, a denial. He doesn’t trust himself to speak.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Andy says.  
  
After a few minutes, Alex finds his voice. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
